Odysseus and the Hydra
by iluvreading
Summary: Annabeth was just innocently walking her dog. Like a normal teenager. Yeah, like that was going to last. Enter Seaweed Brain stage left.


This story begins like all epics _in medias res_. Actually it begins with a dog. Not at the start of the dog's story or even his owner's, but when these events catalyze into the best, worst first impression of Annabeth's life.

Thalia said she couldn't keep the dog. She'd sworn up and down, ranting about the responsibility Annabeth didn't understand, getting dog poop out of the carpet, the liability it would be in a monster attack. But it didn't matter. Annabeth used her secret large, wide, grey eyes and Thalia, predictably, caved. Luke had just laughed and pointed out they had been much younger when they took in a puppy of their own.

"And she attracted more trouble that any puppy could anyway," Luke pointed it out.

"Yeah, but at least she was house broken."

"Pretty please, I've read six books on obedience. The secret's all in the tone." Thalia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I hate it when you both gang up on me." That meant Annabeth had won.

The dog had followed her for six blocks. At first Annabeth thought a monster was stalking her, but when she tricked it into a dead-end alley it was just wagging its tail at her, like it was a game. He was still young, technically a puppy, but come up to Annabeth's knees. He had a shaggy black coat with a white belly that he liked scratched and was so skinny she could count his ribs. He looked so hopeful and sad staring at her, Annabeth couldn't leave him out in the cold.

The dog—Annabeth hadn't named him yet. She believed all decisions should be made after careful consideration. Luke had been suggestion cliché names: Fighto, Spike, Skip. Thalia had offered Cujo with a sneer—upon entering the apartment, ran under the kitchen table and had stayed there for three nights. Thalia, Annabeth and Luke had each taken turns trying to coax him out with food and baby voices. It wasn't until looked like he was going to _drop anchor_ right there that Thalia forcibly dragged him by is collar—his nails scraping across the linoleum—out the apartment to the street.

That night he slept at the end of Annabeth's bed and she felt—though she would never admit to wanting this—like a regular (mortal) kid with a dog. It felt weird because Annabeth had never considered that something she wanted.

* * *

When Thalia interrupted Annabeth's documentary on Spanish Conquistadors one afternoon two days later demanding she walk _her _dog, Annabeth didn't even look up from the screen, "in a minute."

"No, now. I took it out at 5 this morning to do his business; you can walk him."

"But the Incas are just-"

"You said you wanted a dog remember."

Annabeth opened her mouth, but thought better of it. As the daughter of the goddess of battle strategy, she knew when to pick her battles. And postponing walking the dog she begged to keep wasn't one of them. She grabbed the leach, her dog, her baseball cap, a tube of tennis balls for fetch and her knife and locked the apartment door on her way out.

Central Park wasn't far from the apartment she lived in with Thalia, and Annabeth thought it would be easier to dodge monsters in the open than an alley.

Thalia and Annabeth knew what they were getting into when they moved to New York for the school year. They had spent a year as runaways with Luke before Camp Half-Blood and the training there had only improved their skills. They could have continued to live at camp as year rounders, like they had since Annabeth was seven, but Thalia said she didn't want her life completely determined by her parents. She said she wanted to live in the real world, independently. Well, for the most part. She had promised Annabeth a long time ago that they were family. Now she refused to go back on that. Annabeth had jumped at the opportunity to go to a real school, for though Chiron had millenniums' worth of knowledge, very little of it included information found on standardized tests.

It didn't hurt that this was the year Luke was going off the college at NYU and Thalia for all her claims of independence wanted to be near him.

So while Annabeth was happy—she had her family her with her in a city full of beautiful buildings; she was going to school in a week; and she was feeling Thalia's all-important independence – she missed camp. In so many ways it had been home for the past six years.

"If your dog poops on that, you're going to have to pick it up, you know?"

Annabeth looked up at the interruption. It was a boy an inch or so shorter than her with dark shaggy hair, kind of like her dogs. He was holding a baseball in one hand a mitt tucked under the other holding a bat and smirked sarcastically at her.

Now, Annabeth doesn't like being ignorant, especially when someone points it out to her. Her cheeks burned. "I know that," she snapped. Annabeth tugged on the leash trying to get her dog to stop sniffing the parking meter. It didn't deter him though. In fact he started to pull back, sniffing a trail away from the street. She tugged back harder.

"You don't have a bag."

"A what." It wasn't a question. She just wanted him to go away.

"For the poop. You don't have a bag."

"I _was _planning to use your mitt. But now you're big mouth seems—" the leash tugged free from her hand and dragged behind the black blur as it sprinted down a subway entrance.

Annabeth cursed in Greek.

"Does your mother know you talk like that?"

"My mother knows everything," she responded automatically. Then took off after her current second least favorite animal.

Annabeth slipped under the yellow caution tape across stairs and went down them two at a time. Though the street above had normal midday traffic, the subway was deserted, probably closed for construction. She reached the end of the stairs before she noticed the boy had followed her.

"This subway's been closed for years; no one goes down here." He voice trailed off.

She raised an eyebrow. "Then why are the lights on?" He looked around, as though he was seeing it for the first time. _Sucks when people point out when your mistakes, doesn't it?_ she thought.

"He couldn't have gotten far; just call its name."

"It's a he." Annabeth kept moving. There was no sign of her canine companion. She hopped the turnstile. "What are you doing here anyway?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders, suddenly shy. "I don't know. I kinda felt bad that your dog took off. It was kinda my fault."

Annabeth didn't disagree, and it did seem like an uncommonly nice thing to do for a stranger. But that was just it: he was a stranger. And if being a Greek demigod taught you one thing, it was look a gift, wooden horse in the mouth. She was about to tell him, politely, thanks, but no thanks, when she heard a faint clang of metal on brick and muffled scuffling.

She took off after it, moving towards the tracks. The sound had echoed from down the tunnel. She paused. It wasn't a long drop, but something about trapping herself in front of a moving train made Annabeth hesitate.

Pulling her from her thoughts, the boy sat on the ledge and jumped down from it like he did this every Sunday. She noticed he'd hooked the mitt to one of his belt hoops and the ball was in his pocket, but he still help the bat. He looked up at her and asked sincerely, "Need help?"

Annabeth glared at him again. She hopped the five feet and landed without stumbling. They walked shoulder to shoulder facing ahead, but Annabeth could tell he was rolling his eyes. The farther they went the darker it got. They both began tripping over the tracks and ignoring any movement that may have been rats.

"So, what's your dog's name anyway?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" he paused to look at her incredulous. "Is it not your dog?"

"Yes, it's my dog! I just—I haven't found the right name yet, OK?"

"That's stupid. Then what do you call him?"

"It's not really that hard. He is intelligent enough to know when I'm addressing him and he comes when I whistle."

"That's really stupid. You can't just call you dog 'dog.'"

"It's also _really_ not any of your business."

"I'm in a creepy, abandoned subway tunnel helping you find your nameless dog. And I'm probably going to be late for dinner, and then my mom's going to grounded me. So, yeah, I think it's a little bit my business."

"I didn't ask for your help anyway!" But as she turned to make her point, she tripped on the track again. She grabbed his arm to regain her balance, and then let go just as quickly. She sighed and counted to ten in her head like Luke said to do. "What I mean is, it nice of you to offer, but I don't need your help. And I especially don't want you to miss dinner." The last part was only fifteen percent sarcastic.

"Nah, I mean, I'm already here. And I doubt you could find your way out now." He was right and she hated to admit it. The tunnel had started curving and become brighter again. Maybe it was another station?

Annabeth didn't feel like it was. In fact she was getting that feeling she had right before a fight. Her heart rate had picked up and her hand twitched at her hip, where she hid her knife. The dog probably smelt of half-blood after living with two for a couple of days. Still, she never assumed a monster would go after a mortal creature. Annabeth started to make a list of all the common city monsters she knew of: cyclopes, empousai, hellhounds. At worst it was a Minotaur Luke said he barely escapes on his quest last summer. It was too late to contact Thalia, even if she'd brought a drachma. Stupid Annabeth. All you have is a knife, and a mortal with a baseball bat.

Hades, the boy.

The monsters wouldn't attack him, but Athena only knows what he'd see. And what he'd tell people he saw. Thalia was always been the good one with mist and Annabeth didn't want to ruin her new start in New York already.

There was sharp bark, closer to a yelp. Annabeth ran faster. That was her dog, Fates be damned. She would deal with the mortal after she slay the monster and saved her damsel dog. Maybe his bat would even come in handy.

She stopped just around the corner from the platform, where she could hear hissing and whimpering. She needed something reflective to see around the corner. She needed to know the threat to make a plan.

"Has something got your dog?" At least he had the decency to whisper. She glared at him regardless. _Obviously_.

"Do you have a mirror?"

"What?" She hushed him back to a whisper.

"A mirror, a metal lid, anything metallic that shines."

"Your hair looks fine. Now about whatever the Hell is around that corner—"

She blushed against her will. "What do you think the metals— Oh, duh." She felt her back pocket. Edit materials list: Yankees cap. "Don't freak out," she warned as she pulled it over her head.

"Wha-!" She slapped her hand over his mouth, "shhh." But she pulled it back when she felt something wet against her palm. "Ew, that's disgusting!" she exclaimed in a stage whisper.

"What is this?" Annabeth could see his green eyes were wide searching for hers. His brow was furrowed and his mouth open. Honestly, he looked pretty stupid and a little cute (which Annabeth would never admit).

"Magic." And with that she peaked around the brick corner. The platform was lit by low hanging florescent lights, like the ones in schools, but the half that still worked flickered like a bad horror movie. A half-dozen metal benches were pilled against the wall. Crouched low, underneath them was her dog. He bared his teeth as nine heads snapped try to wedge themselves through the metal bars, trying to take a chunk out of her dog. She'd need fire. And a distraction.

Morally speaking risking a mortal's life and, what's more, the single biggest secret of Western Civilization was kind of a no-no, but Annabeth really didn't see any other way. Thalia had said the dog was her responsibility.

Annabeth looked down the back at the platform and then her new, unwitting (read witless) accomplice. It was probably a 25% chance, but she would take what she could get.

"You any good with that bat?"

* * *

"Remember don't do anything unt—unless I whistle." He looked at her like she was crazy. In his eyes she probably looked it too. All the same he nodded once. "Keep it distracted, but stay here, OK? Stay behind this wall."

"It?" He muttered something that sounded like "crazy, scary blonde," but Annabeth had replaced the cap and pulled herself onto the platform.

Though the hydra couldn't see her, she still faced it as she walked backwards towards the trashcan against a wall of old ripped posters. It smelt worse than the Pegasus stable but top was old copies of the Times and street fliers, perfect. The metal frame seemed sturdy enough. Annabeth checked one last time that her dog wasn't dog chow yet, then used her hands to pull one foot on the can rim. The whole thing tottered and she stilled, holding her breath.

Nothing. She released it.

The adrenaline was still pumping strong, but her hands weren't shaking. Slowly she began to bring her other foot up and stand. Annabeth began to plan and make back ups for those plans. She may be able to cut through the plastic of the light and if that failed, she'd be forced to shatter it. Maybe even whistle for her backup. Worst come to worse.

_Rrrrrrippppp. _Shit. Bbaammmpp-ummp—ump. Shit. Bbbaammmpp-ummp-ump. Shit. Baammmpp-ummp—ump.

For ten seconds Annabeth's brain with blank, completely frozen in that one moment of confusion, fear, and disbelief and then, as though to compensate, her brain calculated everything instantly. As she had tried to stand her back pocket had caught on a nail or tack (most likely nail based on the cardboard nature of the bulletin board) on the old board, ripped (one hundred and three stitches), and released the tennis (beginning in Birmingham, England, in the 19th century) balls in her back pocket. The tennis balls she had brought to train her dog in the park with. Huh, planning hadn't paid off, weird. And in the back of her brain was a part of her psyche that found the irony delightfully hilarious.

Nine hungry faces were now staring at her (sort of); It had already crossed half the distance when Annabeth heard the most beautiful sound of her life: a bat against a concrete pillar. "So, I guess the rumor about alligators living in the sewers is true."

Annabeth had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. All nine heads were now facing her knight in faded blue jeans, and he looked more confused than afraid. Apparently the hydra didn't like the comparison and snarled at him. To his credit, the boy only stumbled back a few steps but managed to produce the baseball from his pocket. He tossed it up and wacked it has hard as he could into one of the heads. Distraction: check.

Annabeth slammed the hilt of her knife into the plastic of the light until it fractured. She used the point to chisel as she forced the cracked bigger. Bits of sharp plastic fell into her hair, but finally the light bulb was exposed. Step one: complete.

One the other hand shattering hard plastic isn't as silent as one would hope. So while three heads were getting beat back by a baseball bat, Annabeth was staring straight at six others. The hydra's mouth was, like a sharks, sharp, unruly teeth in rows.

Annabeth leaped off the trashcan. The hydra seemed to decided Annabeth was the biggest threat and left the boy where he had been backed up behind a pillar with one-third of his bat missing. Annabeth considered yelling at him to leave, but frankly her invisibility was her only advantage and if he survived this long he should be able hide out for now.

Annabeth gathered the scattered tennis balls. "Over here, you oversized lizard!" and hit one of his heads. It charged her. Annabeth took a running jump, using the trashcan as a springboard and caught the support wires of the light. She pulled herself up thanking Chiron for all the rope climbing practice. It wasn't completely useless after all. Annabeth grabbed the second yellow ball and the brim of her cap. She had to time this right.

In her peripheral she noticed the boy was trying to help her dog out of the pile of metal benches. (Really she needed names for the both of them. Thinking the dog and the boy was getting tedious.)

Annabeth pegged a second head with the ball and stuffed her hat back into her back pocket. "Over here, Ugly!" It snarled and moved faster. Annabeth crouched down; it was like standing on a swing but less space and more trajectory. She mentally calculated how much time she had based on the hydra's speed. Five, four, (the boy had gotten her dog out) three, two.

Annabeth kicked off light just as one of the heads bit into one side of the support wires. It yanked the wires out of the ceiling and spat it out like bad milk. Step two: complete.

"Hey, Idiot!" She shouted as she backpedalled away from the hydra taking swipes with her knife to keep herself out of neck reach.

"Yeah?" He answers to idiot. He was either so stupid that he was called that a lot or he was smart enough to know when she was trying to get his attention. The hydra snapped its jaws too close and Annabeth sliced it off on instinct. _Idiot, now I have ten heads to deal with. _

"Switch," Annabeth volleyed the knife over the hydras heads. Five heads stared at it in confusion, trying to follow, but the other half were still focused on her. The hydra couldn't seem to pick a target. The boy caught the knife in his mitt (when did he put that on?) and looked back at her confused.

"Why is it glowing?" They were both yelling because of the distance and the platform echoed awkwardly.

"We're fighting a nine-headed," (_ten, _she edited in her head,) "creature and you want to know why my knife glows? Throw me your bat!" He gave her look of exacerbation but did as she asked. The hydra looked like it was catching on so he faked to the right before chucking it. His aim was off by a few feet, but Annnabeth retrieved it and placed her cap back on. She ducked around the hydra back to the trashcan as three hydra heads looked for her and the others were assessing their new threat that they both could see and had a weapon.

When one of the support wires from the light was ripped away, the end had landed in the trash. The same end that she cracked the plastic to expose the bulb. When it crashed into the can beneath, the old, dry paper had caught fire by the sparks. Annabeth just hoped the bat would catch quickly. Luckily, it looked like hydra saliva, left from the bite it took out of the bat, was very flammable.

"You better have one hell of a plan!" He was taking large swipes like he was using a fly swatter, but he gripped the knife correctly. He was untrained but not hopeless.

"I always have a plan. When you cut off a head, two take its place—"

"Yeah, I noticed." Annabeth felt her eyebrow twitch.

"As I was _saying_. If I burn the stump, new heads can't grow."

The monster hadn't paid her flouting voice any mind. In fact two heads were looking for her dog, which had hidden itself on the train tracks. The boy, who had backed up towards the wall where he heard her voice, gave a lopsided smirk. "I slice, you flambé. I like it." With that he lunged at the closed head.

They made quick work of the other nine. After what felt like a couple of minutes they were left panting and covered in dust.

"That does make clean up much easier."

"You know, I never thought of it that way?" Maybe it was the adrenaline or euphoria of victory, but they smiled at each other and Annabeth left her heart beat fast again. "You did good. For a half-wit."

"I'll take that as a compliment. From a wiseass." Annabeth's laugh echoed through the platform. The boy joined in when barking come up from the tunnel. "Oh, hush… Dog." At some point Annabeth's hat had fallen off; she retrieved it and held the barely recognizable bat to the boy.

"You should name him Odysseus." Annabeth looked up at him sharply. He was turning over what was left of his bat with disinterest. "'Cause he's 'no name'."

"It's 'no one' or 'no man.'"

"Yeah, well, close enough," he shrugged. Honestly, it wasn't a bad idea. Odysseus was known for his brains, not his brawn; her dog had known to hide and call for her, even if he was stupid enough to get caught. Plus, Odysseus had been her mother's favorite hero; it would be a nice thank you for sending him to her. Hades knew anything was better than Mittens (thanks a lot, Luke).

Annabeth placed her pointer and thumb in her mouth and gave her best taxi whistle, "Odysseus!" He leaped onto the platform, wagging his tail, ears up. "C'mere boy!" He tackled her, knocking her on her back and licked her face. "Like your name, huh?" She pushed herself onto her elbows. The boy was scratching behind Odysseus's ears. He didn't look up as he asked.

"So, you kill subway monsters every weekend?"

"More often than you'd think." He'd understood Greek, saw the hydra, and held her celestial bronze knife. His mention of Odysseus hadn't escaped her either. Annabeth bit her lip, hesitating. He looked about her age. Maybe his parent was a minor god. "What do you know about your parents?"

"My mom's a writer and my dad teaches Freshman English. What about yours?" He said it casually, like she'd asked what his favorite baseball team was.

"No, I mean your biological parents."

"How did you know Paul was my step dad?" Annabeth realized she should take a different approach. She pushed Odis back and stood.

"Never mind, I'll explain later." Annabeth held out her hand. "I'm Annabeth Chase by the way."

"Percy Jackson." She noticed he had sea green eyes and a good grip.

She raised an eyebrow. "As in Perseus?"

"I prefer Percy."

"You sure? It's not much better."

"Hey!"

Annabeth scooped up Odysseus's leash and headed back the way she'd came. She looked over her shoulder, "You coming or what?"

And that's where we end: _in medias res._

* * *

I read a story not too long ago that inspired this story. And I'm sad to say I can't find it now. I fell in love with the concept of Annabeth and Thalia living in NYC and Percy finding out about his parentage and the world that goes with it there instead of camp. If that author has any problem with this story, I completely understand and I'll remove it. Or edit it. Whichever.

I'm sorry about the fight scene, I've never even tried writing action before so it sounds a little stilted and stiff. I really wanted to get Percy and Annabeth's tit-for-tat, but I'm not sure I achieved it. Either way, it was one of the more fun things I've written. I know it says complete, but commentary, criticism, thoughts, etc. are always appreciated. Have a nice day!


End file.
